catching lightning
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: "Finally. It was the first thought on Jon's mind when he heard the nearing steps and it quickly morphed into panic once he realised that Daenerys wasn't the one approaching."


**Notes: Written for day six of the Jonerys Appreciation Week, with the prompts _Ice and Fire / Crack / Books Appreciation_ \- a dangerous combination that could have honestly brought on something like this. I'm not at all good at writing crack, but took the opportunity to write the easiest-going AU I could imagine and throw in an attempt at humour and a too literal interpretation of _book appreciation_ somewhere in there somehow. I even have a sort of a quick storyline of how they met/how it all turns out when Jon's family ends up meeting Dany, but tried not to get carried away with it.**

 **I _might_ have got a bit carried away with describing modern!Daenerys's aesthetic, but this is the only go I can have at it, okay, let me have this.**  
 **All of that being said, I hope this is enjoyable and feedback is always welcome! ^^**

* * *

 _Finally_. It was the first thought on Jon's mind when he heard the nearing steps and it quickly morphed into panic once he realised that Daenerys wasn't the one approaching. He sank further back into the shadows of the bookshelves until the librarian was out of sight. She was still downstairs – she hadn't even seen him climb above the small fence he'd had to cross to get up here – and he let himself relax, only to flinch when a pair of hands appeared on the nearest windowsill, hoisting their owner up before he'd had the chance to react.

"Help me!" An all-too-familiar voice hissed, fingers clutching onto his as soon as he leant down to look, eyes widening at the sight that greeted him there. Somewhere along the way, the idea of his girlfriend scaling the facade of the library to break into the restricted session had become less worrisome than the realisation that someone else could see her doing it. Jon quickly pulled her up, steadying her into his arms once she was inside the building.

Daenerys's heartbeat against his chest was still racing, her skin feeling hot all over despite the thin shirt and the knee-length pleated skirt that she was wearing. She'd let her hair down, likely in an attempt to throw any onlookers off as much as possible, futile as it would be. Her eyes were sparkling with the leftovers of the adrenaline spike she must have just experienced, though, and Jon grinned back at her despite himself.

"Jon!" Just a moment later, the hair in question was all he could see as Daenerys pulled him into an embrace. The place was deserted and she was as quiet as she could possibly be, but the greeting still echoed under the high ceiling. Her _presence_ alone tended to be loud, and it had little to do with the sturdy heels and their quiet thuds across the wooden floors. It was, unexplainably, one of the things Jon loved the most about her. "I knew I could count on you."

"I still think it's a bad idea," he clarified, but did nothing to pull away. "Of course you can. I said we'd do this together, right?"

The truth was, he was curious too. There wasn't much that their university's library denied its students and he had _definitely_ wanted to have a look at what the restricted section contained, although not with the same fervour that Daenerys had applied to the task.

It had all started on the day when she'd announced the topic she'd picked for her thesis. She had been denied access to the sources she'd needed shortly after that and instead of giving up like the majority of their classmate would have done, she had turned it into her semester's mission to hunt down every single thing that she'd asked for to begin with.

"It's just going to make everything _better_ ," she argued, sliding yet another book into her seemingly bottomless gym sack she'd slung over her shoulder, likely for those exact purposes, when Jon pointed out that stealing wasn't a good start to any paper. "It's not stealing if it's for research purposes. Any committee would appreciate dedication over censorship. Look," she added, shuffling through the books stuffed at the bottom of yet another shelf, "There's something for you too. I don't even know why _this_ is here."

 _The art of war revisited: the evolution of warfare_. It was required reading, Jon remembered, and, "This is really expensive."

"There's your answer, then." She pushed another couple of books into her backpack – so old that they'd started falling apart already – and got to her feet. "All done. Think we can have a look around the place now?"

Jon didn't have it in him to say no; not when he wanted to explore more as well. They'd done their research well enough before they'd even considered breaking in to know that there were no cameras here and for what had to be the first time in his life, Jon was grateful for the fact that no one had wanted to deface the centuries-old architecture in their university with technology and they had therefore omitted cameras altogether. He hastily turned the same corner that he saw Daenerys disappearing into and almost ran into her just a moment later.

It didn't take him long to realise what had made her freeze.

"I can't believe I've spent three years studying in that hellhole below when we could have had _this_."

The lounge in front of them was small – just two armchairs around a table that looked downright ancient – but Jon was inclined to agree with the sentiment. The library itself was louder than any library had a right to be and they had been dreaming of privacy like this for years while still having access to all the information they needed.

Daenerys had already taken over one of the armchairs, closing her eyes as if to better enjoy the sunlight coming in through the stained glass windows – another rarity in the floor below. "I think I could get used to this."

"I don't doubt it for a second. Move over," Jon urged, settling down next to her as soon as she'd pulled herself closer to the armrest. It only made sense. They'd both ended in the same classes because of their never-ending need to sort out injustices and for Daenerys, that had always meant taking the injustices against _her_ into account as well. It had taken Jon a while to come around to that particular idea, but he was more than used to it by now. "Don't think we can keep breaking in, though."

"We just have to earn ourselves a permission slip somehow." Her lazy smile turned sly. "It would solve your issue with _stealing_ as well."

"You make it sound like that's not what it is."

"I'm going to bring them back," she insisted with more than the dignity anyone in her situation should have been able to afford. "I'm just using the provided resources like everyone else."

" _Everyone else_ doesn't need to get in through the window."

"I only did it because everyone in the staff recognises me by now." She nudged him, the gesture playful now that the tension from before had nearly evaporated. "What choice did I have?"

"None at all." One of his hands had reached up to cup her cheek and Daenerys straightened in her seat just enough for him to be able to lean in for a kiss. It _had_ been rather impressive, he had to admit, even if he hadn't seen it coming and the reminder only made him deepen the kiss, his free hand straying to her waist to bring her closer until they were pressed flush together. His fingers slid down her thigh until he had reached the edge of her skirt and then further still, wandering over the lace of her thigh highs. It was enough to make her pull back, eyes wide with something he couldn't quite decipher.

"Jon." She sounded much more breathless now, but hadn't made a move to stop him, biting her lip in contemplation instead. " _Here_?"

"Nobody ever comes here." He brushed away a stray lock of blonde hair, cherishing the rare opportunity to run his fingers through it without the braids that usually kept it out of her face. It was a tremendously bad idea. It also happened to be irresistible, especially when she responded, one hand resting on his knee in something that was both initiation and invitation, her touch enough to make him feel like she was setting fire to him even through his jeans. "And we still need to celebrate your success."

"My _future_ success."

The correction was enough to bring a laugh out of him as he kissed her again, now with even more determination than before.

 _As if failure had ever been an option_.


End file.
